Just One More Day
by Kirikou
Summary: Numbah 1 can't control the strange voices in his mind, and their driving him to the edge. They convince him he has no freinds, no reason to live...


Just One More Day...  
Kirikou  
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Alright, next attempt at a KND story. This one is about as angsty as they come, and I thought it was pretty tear jerking. Kirikou likes to mess with Numbah 1. He's just so cute, how can I resist messing with his sanity?? Oh well, I'd love to get some feedback on this one, so thanks! Here it goes...  
  
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*..to all the people who thought thay had no hope..*  
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A boy sat alone in the corner of a dark room, curled up in a small ball. He looked out, desperation on his face, as if seeing an invisible enemy that was far out of his reach, and never left his side. Through all his trying and pain, he'd never gotten rid of the demon that prayed on him in his dreams and followed him in his waking hours. He'd been unable to think strait for weeks, making many of his comrades very worried for him.   
  
He sat there, curled up, begging the voices to stop, pleading silently as they uged him to do unimaginable things. It seemed as though today he would crack, they believed. He would follow them as they planned, destroy his team. It had taken long, long hours, and now it was paying off.   
  
He tried to banish the thoughts from his mind, begging once more. It was the last straw. He hadn't slept in days. A tear rolled down his cheek, hitting the ground, followed by many more after that.  
  
"Stop..." He managed to sob, burrowing further into his little ball. But the voices did the opposite.  
  
You know you want to..  
  
They chanted, though it felt to Numbah 1 more like screaming, like a splitting headache that wouldn't subside. He could only cry harder, leaning back against the wall in defeat. They'd never leave him alone. Thoughts raced through his head, how he could get rid of them, but there was realy only one alternative. At least that much of his thinking hadn't been muddled, and that was exactly what they wanted him to do. A painfull sob wracked his small body, making him curl up again. He looked down at his shoes, which where blurred from the tears in his eyes, which he quickly wiped away, only to have them replaced.  
  
"Leave me alone.."  
  
now why would we want to do that?  
  
He shook his head, leaning back again, staring up at the ceiling, uncaring, unfeeling. They had to go. His now free hand brushed against something metal, picking it up, gripping it in that one hand on the floor. He did not move, only held the object, staring up at the ceiling, his face ashen, sleep deprived. A helpless look crossed his face for a second, but quickly vanished under a viel of hoplessness. They'd play with him untill he was out of his mind, or dead. his hand clenched strongly over it, bringing it to sit limply in his hand over his leg. Was it realy nessasary...  
  
go on, it'll only hurt for a second.  
  
He shook his head, unwilling to do what they said. He wanted to stay, to run to his friends, explain everything, just be HIMSELF again. He missed that person dearly, wondering as he sat there, if he'd ever see him again. Would the torture continue forever? Would he truly go insane? He shook his head, answering his own question. It was too late for insanity. He already was. Tears continued to fall down, making a small, but quickly desintigrating puddle at his feet, into the wood. He brought the object eye-level, though did not want to look at it. He closed his eyes.  
  
come on now, don't be scared.  
  
They didn't care what he felt. They didn't feel his hurt, his pain, desperation for a way out. They wanted him to be like them, to hurt others, his freinds and family to further their own ends. He sighed, choking down the urge to scream, to shreek as loud as he could, scream for help, for a freind, for anything, anything to be rid of the pain. He did not let go of the object, only put it closer, sitting it down on his lap. There was no other way.  
  
have a little fun.  
  
He couldn't hold it. He screamed at them.  
  
"Get away!!!!" He heard their voices, laughing, mocking. It hadn't phased them, only left himself more vulnerable to their attack. He could picture them, picturesque smiles. They lived to torture him day and night. And now they had the upper hand. He sighed, tear drops hitting the ground more often. He couldn't even picture himself, a desperate nothing on the floor, crying his heart out.  
  
that's right. They don't care, do they? They're not here are they?   
  
He nodded. They wheren't there. They where out somewhere, he didn't know, didn't care where. They couldn't help him, although they tried. He realy was nothing. Just a pitiful leader of a group that was now falling apart because of him. Numerous attacks had been carried out where they had been at the enemy's mercy, and he hadn't been able to help, hadn't even been there. Their trust was declining. One day they would just have nothing to do with him, he was sure. He'd been getting in trouble at home too. Nobody seemed to like him anymore. What freinds did he have now? Only himself, sitting there. He'd prayed, time after time, to be relieved of these creatures, threatening to take him alive, but hadn't been answered. Even He had turned him down.  
  
you don't have anybody. Just us.  
  
"I.." He couldn't say it. He was alone. He had nobody. He WAS nobody. Just a kid, one out of millions. Millions of uncaring, lifeless children. He wondered, as he lifted the object to his head, if anyone else was going through this same thing right now, someone he could meet later on...  
  
go on, go on...  
  
Gun to his head, he gulped nervously, eyes closed and tears still falling. They had to go. It was the only way to be rid of them. He'd be free, see that other side of him again, the person he used to be. The place he wanted desperately to go. His finger tightened around the trigger....  
  
"Yeah, one sec, I forgot something!" He heard a voice from below, eyes widening. Numbah 3... another voice. Numbah 4. What where they doing here...A knock was heard on the door, but he didn't say anything. He held himself together, waiting for them to leave.  
  
"Numbah 1 must have locked it."  
  
"What was he doing here? Did you see him?" Numbah 4 questioned. He noticed a small hint of worry.  
  
"Yeah, he went up in the morning. Haven't seen him since!"  
  
"You figure I would have run into him by now. I hope he's feeling better."  
  
"Yeah... It's not the same without Numbah 1."  
  
"Let's get outa here." The voices faded away, descending the stairs and leaving. Numbah 1 almost gasped. They'd been thinking about him.  
  
only for a while. Why won't they look for you?  
  
His finger stayed where it was, gun still poised. He still cried, still desperate. Why hadn't he called them? Why hadn't he said something? Had they realy been worried? Did they realy care?  
  
no, they don't care!! You know it!!  
  
His eyes narrowed, pulling tighter. He had to end it. He couldn't take anymore of this. The voices continued to mock him, tell him things he'd never believed, say things that made him cringe at even the thought, put horrible and gruesome pictures in his head, waking him up at night to the point where he could no longer think about sleep, made him sick for the longest time, made him fall apart from his friends...  
  
"They...they're worried.."  
  
No, they're not!!  
  
He thought a moment longer, trying to picture what the place would look like, each of their faces, freinds, enemies, his mother, all the things he'd done in his lifetime, all the enemies he'd defeated, all the things they'd all did together as a team, unseperable. He gasped. Whines in his head. The voices complained.  
  
They'd counted on him! They'd taken his advice, they believed in him, and never once doubted his decision. He saw himself and them. He'd been chosen to take on that roll, they'd decided...  
  
A thought crossed his mind that made him cry harder. The thought of them all standing there, watching him get burried, the looks on their faces, on his parents'...They cared about him! The voices where wrong!  
  
no, we're always right!! You know it!!  
  
"No..." he said to himself, leaning back, dropping the gun on the floor. He went limp, sitting there, no longer desperate. He was scared. What would they think?! What would he do? Where would he have gone?? A body on the ground frightened him further, and knew the look on Numbah 3's face if she'd seen him...he could never do that to her...They all cared for him, more than he had realized.  
  
NO!!  
  
"Yes." He said confidently, wiping his eyes, no longer affraid. He would never give into them, even if they where there for the rest of his life. He had freinds that cared, parents, and he had a responsibility to lead his group. He was dedicated to something. He couldn't abandon them, leave them for dead. He sat up, grinning, picking up the gun and shoving it in his pocket. The voices screamed at him, only making him feel that he had power over them. The tables had turned. He made his way to a lake nearby, taking one more look at the gun, before throwing it out as far as he could with a moan from the voices. They had lost. It was then, that he felt it. The voices...they where gone. He was free. He only stared out at the surface of the water, the sun setting behind it slowly. A voice came up behind him.  
  
"Numbah 1! Where have you been?" It was Numbah 3. He turned as she came up to him, picking her up and hugging her as tightly as he could, untill she was gasping for breath. He'd never leave them...  
  
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*..take a look around..*  
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*..you might find it in the most obvious places..*  
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3/25/03 


End file.
